


Parenting is Hard

by KingpinCobblepot (Theonlylucysaxon)



Series: Comfort and Confirmation [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Depression, M/M, Parent Edward Nygma, Parent Oswald Cobblepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 01:52:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theonlylucysaxon/pseuds/KingpinCobblepot
Summary: Basically I wrote this for a friend who struggles with his mental health while wanting and trying to be a parent but often feeling like he comes up short. Similiar to my past work 'Staying In',  this is just a small look at someone who copes with their mental illness within the confines of attempted normalcy.





	Parenting is Hard

When they got married, Oswald had promised him that they would do it together. That they would… That they COULD do it together. Being a parent was never in the cards for Edward Nygma. Not given his parents or the way he was raised. He often wondered even if they had been loving, if they had even been model parents, would it have changed anything? He often considered not. He was just too sick. He was incapable of being a father. Of loving a child the way they deserved, and even with proper guidance and role models it wouldn’t have changed anything about the fact that he was just… He wasn’t a well person. 

He knew it. 

Oswald knew it. 

The great unspoken truth between them even now, after all they had both suffered together and apart and the many forgivenesses they were able to offer one another, they remain incapable of openly admitting just how broken Edward is to themselves and each other. Instead, he just “has bad days”. That's how Oswald deems them, and it’s almost touching how he is desperate not to label Edward anything that Ed isn’t able to label himself. He’s more considerate than Ed would have ever given him credit for. But then, so many things are different than Ed ever believed they could be. They’re married for one. And despite the uncertainty, they have a son. And Ed loved Martin. 

As a person, he was a clever, sweet little boy. But that wasn’t what compelled Ed to love the boy. No, the Riddler was far too particular for that. He loved him-- in the beginning at least-- because Oswald did. Because being a father delighted the Penguin in such a way that it was impossible for Ed to even really understand. It was just fun to watch how much Oswald loved it. How good he was at it. Of the many things within the two men that lined up and matched one another-- Of the things that made sense to each other, and the hundred little aspects of being which made them so perfectly suited to the company and affection of one another, parenting just wasn’t on the list. Ed didn’t have that gene and furthermore, he had an instability of temperament and impermanence of reality which both worked in diametric opposition to the idea of being a father.  

But Oswald promised him they would do it together, and they had of course. For months now. But in the last few weeks, Oswald had taken on the challenge of bringing the narrows into proper order as part of his empire, and the result was… Well, more one on one time with Martin than Ed was necessarily accustomed to. Olga finished up work usually in the evening after making dinner, unless it was a weekend and then Ed typically liked to cook or the trio would go out to a restaurant. But either way, if Oswald had business, that left hours between dinner and the kids bedtime-- hours where they were alone together. Hours where Ed was just dad. 

And it felt so… Vulnerable to be dad. It was different when he hid behind coparenting. When Oswald was around to be father and they shared that existence with one another. Ed got to relax, enjoy the proximity, watch without actively doing anything. When he wasn’t doing it alone, Ed felt less scared too. Even if he did do something. Whether they played chess, or Martin helped him with making dinner, Oswald being around was the security blanket Edward needed. Lately that security blanket had been across town and Ed was left to deal with things alone. 

And even then, things were… Fine. 

For the most part. 

Most days. 

But then Ed had what Oswald so gently named one of his “bad days”, and that sweet little facade of capability crumbled with every second. It was a Sunday. Olga left at one o’clock. That was eight hours. The anxiety of what the day had been, the pressures, the emptiness that gnawed inside of him and tried to destroy him.. It all swirled together as he struggled to keep that oh so beckoning and welcoming voice at bay. That voice of another self that insisted he’d be better off abandoning the kid and Oswald if this was how pathetically broken he really was. He tried to hold it together, but by the time it was five and he typically would have started dinner, Ed was burrowing his face into the arm of the sofa, hiding in the library while his eight year old son watched TV over to the side. It was just so much. The weight of his responsibility was clashing into his desire to do well-- to make Martin happy and make Oswald happy. To be better at this than he could be, and his anxiety felt like it drew him into the couch even as much as his depression reared up from inside that hollow place in his chest and pinned him down. Moving felt like too much, and not moving felt like he was suffocating, and embarrassment was setting in because Martin was suddenly looking at him like he was insane. Like he didn’t understand. He holds up the word “dinner?” and Ed doesn’t know how to tell him about the sudden panic attack sweeping over him. 

This was stupid. He was better than this. He HAD to be. He had agreed to be Oswald’s husband. To be a father to Martin. No one else had made this choice and here he was like an idiot feeling crushed by the obligation to do something a simple as feed the kid. He wasn’t fit to be a parent. He wasn’t fit to do anything. He was a failure. It washed over him and he shook his head at Martin softly who frowned and furrowed his brows. Suddenly Ed was turning his face into the couch, crying real tears. He couldn’t hold them in. Martin deserved better. Oswald deserved better. Their family was beautiful with the exception of the ugliness of Edward Nygma and his incompetence. He felt like he was being pulled apart from the inside. Like this was it. The moment when he would finally lose all connection to himself. Maybe the Riddler would take over. Maybe neither personality had the ability to control the fear and the pain and the numbness all at once. Maybe he would shut down into a husk. He was about to contemplate the sweet release of surrender to it all when a small hand shook his shoulder. 

He couldn’t help but turn to look. It was Martin. He had the phone from the side table in his hand and was holding it out. Ed was so surprised by this that for a moment he forgot about everything else and in that second just looked sincerely confused. Martin held up the pad. 

‘Say “Pizza”’ The paper said and Ed blinked a few times before Martin looked at the note the gave a knowing nod and added to the writing on the pad, ‘and then “Van’ Dahl Estate. Usual.”  He smiled and held up the phone where Ed now heard the voice on the line calling out. 

“Hello? Helloo??” 

He cracked the tiniest of smiles, but it didn’t quite reach the expression in his eyes, as he managed to say what Martin asked. Forty minutes was said back, and they called him sir-- likely assuming he was Oswald. Thus the quick delivery in spite of being so far from the city. When Ed uttered a somber sort of thanks into the phone, Martin hung it up for him and nodded a little, going to his father’s desk in the corner and opening the top drawer. There were always a few fifties in there that Oswald used to tip his henchman. Martin took one out and held it in his hand as he went to sit back down on the rug and continue watching his movie. 

It felt all the more unfair suddenly how self sufficient this kid was. How much of a shitty dad he had to be that his son had to know how to get his own food. He ended up falling asleep there on the couch, only to be awoken by the sound of the doorbell. He stirred long enough to watch Martin leave the room. He didn’t have it in him to really look, sit up, monitor that Martin was okay. He felt bad about that because again, anything could have happened. He listened though-- he listened close. And soon enough, he heard as the boys footsteps made it to the entryway. He opened the door. Took the pizza from a guy who tried to make small talk. He immediately went from inane questions to grateful thanks, likely because the fifty was twice the price of the meal it covered. Martin shut the door. His footsteps headed for the dining room, but then stopped. Ed couldn’t see, but hesitation played in Martin’s eyes. 

Hmm.. Should he eat in the dining room like he’s supposed to or since dad is sad, is it okay to eat in the library with him? He debates, but finally decides to eat in the dining room, only to stand in the doorway with his plate and slice of pizza, eating while standing and watching his dad to make sure he’s okay. After two slices eaten this way, he puts his plate in the sink and gets a fresh plate for a slice of Ed’s own, bringing it to him in the library cause even watching Martin eat, he hadn’t wanted to get up. Martin sits it on the floor in front of him and then goes back to sitting and watching TV until his father comes home. 

It would take a couple days for Ed to tell Oswald what happened as he grappled with the idea of making him hate him. Instead Oswald is as always, more kind and patient than Ed deserves.. He reassures him that it’s okay. The fact he worries in itself means something. The fact he loves Martin enough and loves their family enough to want the best, to want to be the best even when it’s impossible-- it all means something. Especially to the little boy who depended on him. 

It isn’t until he sits with Martin one afternoon later that week, helping him with his homework as Oswald is just in the other room making his mother’s goulash, that Ed realizes just how possibly right Oswald is about the last part. Because Martin-- in the middle of a lesson on fractions, leans over to hug Ed. This in itself is a little startling. Martin is an affectionate enough kid, but he and Edward also don’t have the same kind of affectionate relationship Martin has with Oswald. It’s different. They’re different. And hugs are typically saved for bedtime and morning goodbyes for school. Ed of course allows it though and gently squeezes him with one arm before pulling back and asking what he is so curious to know. 

“Whats that for?” 

Martin scribbles on his paper and then holds it up. ‘The other night you ordered pizza cause I was hungry even though you were sad. I didn’t say thank you.’ He looks up at him simply.

Ed laughs a little and shakes his head. “It’s my job to take care of you, Martin.” he brushes off the thanks which he feels so sure he doesn’t deserve. Martin frowns and writes something else. Several something elses. It takes a few pieces of paper and he rips off the notes to hand it to Ed as he writes.  

‘Father says sometimes it really hurts when you’re sad.’ 

‘And it’s really hard to do stuff for you.’

‘That means it was extra nice when you did something for me cause I was hungry,’ 

‘You didn’t HAVE to. You weren’t hungry.’

‘I was. So thanks, dad.’

Ed feels a sincere sort of smile play on his lips as he nods a little and then this time he initiates the hug. He embraces Martin tight and says softly that he loves him. And Ed thinks, maybe it’s not just because Oswald does. Perhaps he really does love him because he’s a sweet, clever kid who is so much like his father, it’s somehow impossible not to love him. 


End file.
